


The Ones Who Suffer

by TheGoliathBeetle



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MakoHaru Week 2016, Sadness, post episode 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoliathBeetle/pseuds/TheGoliathBeetle
Summary: Haru and Makoto have to deal with the consequences of surviving the training camp in the ocean. Written for MakoHaru Week 2016.Prompt: Free Choice (SFW)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do something more creative, but I just did not have the time. Keeping up with MakoHaru week has been a bit of a challenge these last couple of days because of personal life. Still, I hope you enjoy my take on the aftermath of the infamous episode six.
> 
> .
> 
> For MakoHaru Week 2016  
> Date: Saturday, 24th September  
> Prompt: Free Choice (SFW)

While they’re still at camp, it’s okay. It’s under control. The tremors of their souls and the quiet screaming that sometimes breaks out in a flinch, an off-hand grimace, a shiver down the spine. The ocean is at their feet, all around them, but while they’re in a group, and they’ve got a goal, it’s somehow, miraculously, under control.

 

Things change the moment they’re home.

 

It starts with Haru first.

 

He…stops.

 

Holds Makoto by the back of his shirt. Blue eyes gazing into him, the words, _it’s meaningless without you_ , ringing in the crevices of his mind. Makoto drops all pretences, loses that carefree little smile of his, and suddenly, looks like he’s aged ten years. The lines around his eyes and flat, uninspired lips, the way his shoulders slump and his spine drops and everything about him seems wrung out and exhausted.

 

Haru is thinking about how this moment was almost stolen from them. About how Makoto almost actually _died_ , and in another reality, perhaps, Haru would be attending his funeral. The very idea makes something burn in his throat, but he swallows it. He will not let Makoto see him cry. Makoto needs him to be strong right now.

 

“I’m okay, Haru, I am,” Makoto says softly, sounding more like he’s convincing himself. Some semblance of sparkle reaches his eyes. “Because of you.”

 

Haru winces. He doesn’t want to be reminded. _Because of me._ “I wasn’t doing you a favour,” he spits out, more acidic than he’d intended. Then, out of desperation, “Makoto—!” but the fortress of words he’s made in his head comes crashing down, and he clamps his mouth shut, dropping his head and curling his fists. “Don’t,” is all he chokes out. “Don’t do something like that again.”

 

* * *

Makoto is alone in his room, trying to sleep, and there is something out there waiting for him.

 

The anxiety comes in ripples. One minute, he’s fine and thinking about homework he needs to catch up on. The next, waves of terror come crashing down on him like the waves of the inky black ocean so very close to his house, and Makoto’s heart clenches, hands going cold, breath coming in rapid, unhealthy gasps. His forehead is sweating. Makoto gets up, closes his window and turns his back on it, away from the vast liquid death trap that had almost conquered him. Towards his bedroom door.

 

On nights like this, years and years ago, a young Makoto could creep out of his bedroom, his whole body icy with fear, and wake his parents up. They didn’t understand where his problems with the ocean came from, but they’d learned not to force him into the water on beach vacations, and learned not to take beach vacations at all.

 

Makoto doesn’t go running to them now. He is a responsible elder sibling now, with duties and people looking up to him. His parents depend on him and he can't go waking them up when they have work tomorrow. It isn't right.

 

He really needs to sleep…The training camp has been utterly exhausting even without the nightmare that had been the first evening. It has taken a toll on their friends, too. Rei can' look either him or Haru in the eye, and Nagisa is getting tired of keeping the group’s mood chipper. Makoto has to pull himself together. All of this rests on him.

 

Burying his head into his pillow, Makoto chokes out a dry sob. But the cushioning is making it hard to breathe, and it is triggering, it takes him right back into the hungry depths of the ocean. He sits up with a start, throws the pillow across the room and curls up in a desperate ball on the bed. He wants to be held. He wants to be taken care of. Makoto is not all right.

 

* * *

Haru is not all right.

 

He can't strain one thought from another. Anger and fear and sadness run vicious circles in his head. Rage, at Rei and then Makoto and at himself too, because if only Haru had insisted on sleeping with Makoto in the tent, instead of giving into Nagisa’s whims, he would have kept an eye on Makoto, made sure that nothing went awry. (But then Rei would have probably drowned at sea and all of them would be attending _his funeral_ fuck fuck fuck—)

 

Haru is terrified, running what-ifs in his head. What if he hadn’t heard Makoto screaming for Rei? What if Haru hadn’t, on instinct, looked deep into the water? What if Nagisa hadn’t jumped in after Haru, throwing all caution to the wind? At least one of them would have drowned.

 

Haru is also very, very sad. He doesn’t understand why. But it’s something heavy and cold that settles in his belly and makes his arms slow and forces his eyes to cry softly into the blankets. He just can’t stop blaming himself, not just for what happened at camp, but for not stopping Makoto in time. Why did Makoto even feel he had to organise a camp like this? Haru had known he was faking it, they should have really talked about this. Why didn’t Haru push the subject some more? Why, why, _why_?

 

* * *

 

**Makoto: haru im having an anxiety attack  
** **Makoto: im scared of even closing my eyes  
** **Makoto: even if i fall asleep there’ll be nightmares haru i can’t i can’t**

 

 **Haru: I’m coming over.**  

* * *

All that can be done, now that the worst has been avoided, is to comfort the living, because they are the ones who suffer.

* * *

Haru uses his spare key, something Mr Tachibana had given him years ago ‘in case of emergencies’. Makoto is sitting up in bed, the pillow tossed to one side of the room. He’s got a blanket up to his neck, but even then Haru can seem him shivering.

 

“Makoto.”

 

In three steps Haru has closed the distance between them, pulling Makoto close, tight, in a hug that could’ve lasted a lifetime. Makoto breaks apart on Haru’s shoulder and Haru forces back his own tears, feeling the heat of his best friend’s skin under him. Haru inhales every time Makoto inhales, their breaths in sync, reassuring Haru. He’s alive. He’s alive.

 

He’s alive.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Have I ever mentioned that I hate the spacing on AO3 if you copy-paste something into the text box? Random, but yeah.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Please comment :D


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